Morning
by Idris Amelia Song
Summary: They're not always running through distant galaxies, saving civilizations, or visiting intergalactic parties. Sometimes they share small, less exciting moments that are just as special. The Doctor clings to these times, never knowing how many more they'll get. Drabble. Rated T only to be cautious.


**Okay, so I started this when I was sick, stuck in bed, and possibly delirious as well. Then I came back to it a few weeks later and decided that it wasn't half bad and decided to rewrite it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own River or the Doctor. If I did I'd probably lock them in a closet with a surveillance camera. I mean, what?**

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She is beautiful, he thinks. It's not the first time he's noticed. He can't even see her face right now and he knows it's true. Just the way her back curves and how smooth her bare skin looks is enough. Well, not one hundred percent smooth. There are a couple of scars from their adventures, places where her Time Lord DNA hadn't kicked in all the way to heal her wounds. This was still rather early for her, he knew, and she was missing some of the scars he had seen in his past. He doesn't care about her scars, though. She's still gorgeous to him, regardless of when he meets her and how old or young she is.

Although, he does change his mind and decide that just looking isn't quite sufficient. Why limit yourself to sight when touch is available? So even though she's still asleep, he reaches out and rubs her back gently, tracing meaningless patterns with his long fingers. She stirs slightly but does not yet wake. He scoots closer and wraps one arm around her, drawing the same patterns on her stomach now, placing gentle kisses on her neck, trailing to her shoulder, down her arm. She gives a little sigh of contentment and rolls over to face him, smiling drowsily.

"Hello, sweetie," she mumbles, her voice laced with sleep. He chuckles, brushing her honey curls off of her face. The dim, soft light the TARDIS is providing in the bedroom makes her hair look golden. Actually, when he thinks about, he realizes he doesn't know exactly where they are onboard the ship. Last night they'd just crashed into the nearest bedroom, not paying attention to their whereabouts, and his mind had been too... Er, preoccupied with other things to notice which one it was. She has that effect on him.

As his fingers brush her cheek, she smiles blissfully. While there was something undeniably sexy about seeing her in the heat of a moment on some far off planet, firing her gun or running for her life, seeing her like this, calm, relaxed, and wrapped in a cream-colored bed sheet, is a different kind of wonderful.

And now he's tilting her chin up with his hand and kissing her, gently, slowly, as if they have all the time in the universe. Because they do. And oh, he will never get enough of the way her lips feel on his, never get bored of the sensation of kissing her. It sends electric thrills through his nerves and makes his chest ache almost painfully, but it's a pain he enjoys.

"I love you, River," he says softly after they break away.

"And I you," she answers simply, leaning in to kiss him again but he stops her.

"Remember that. Remember it in the future when you have to meet me when I'm younger and... I don't know you, or trust you. And I'm sorry, I really am. Just remember that those are my first moments with you, and I'll be falling in love with you for the first time. Even if you can't tell, I am. I promise." He's looking into her eyes so seriously she looks a little scared. He knows she barely comprehends what he's warned her of the way their relationship is timey wimey and out-of-order. To her everything is perfect and relatively simple right now. He wishes that were true.

"I understand," she says quietly, her mood seeming to have dropped a bit.

"Don't be upset," he tells her anxiously, touching her cheek. He hates to make her feel anything but happy in her early days. It's so hard to look into her innocent face (well, as innocent as River Song gets anyway), knowing all the grief and heartbreak that she's gone through and that still lies in her future. Most of it caused by him. "Right now everything is good, right? We have to make the most of it," he continues.

He's looking at her so worriedly, with so much concern, that now she can't help but smile, unknowing of his dark thoughts. "Absolutely," she affirms. "Make the most of it." With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she pulls him on top of her, their lips colliding together. He lets out a short, desperate moan against her mouth. The last thing that runs through his conscious mind before sinking into the depths of passion is not words, not a complete thought, but more of an emotion. The same feeling that is always present when he's with her. Love, tainted with unbearable guilt.

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**Well, I'm actually kinda pleased with this. Hope you liked it too, leave a review maybe? Thanks for reading, have a happy Father's Day! :)**

**ALSO: My last fic before this, "Forever", has gotten a pretty positive response. I originally wasn't going to continue it, but now I'm wondering if I should? If any of you would be interested, please let me know and I'll see what I can come up with. Any prompts/ideas for what else to put in it would be extremely appreciated as well, 'cause at the moment I have close to nothing :P**


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